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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23352739">Hook &amp; Eye</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScuzBrains/pseuds/ScuzBrains'>ScuzBrains</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Garak trying to be a good partner, M/M, Mild Angst, references to Bashir's Rough childhood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:01:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23352739</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScuzBrains/pseuds/ScuzBrains</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak tries to do a favor for his partner by restoring a childhood treasure.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Julian Bashir/Elim Garak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>99</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hook &amp; Eye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bashir sat on the bed, holding something in his lap and beaming. Garak could see his smile from across the room as he entered with a basket of freshly cleaned laundry, but he couldn't quite make out what Bashir was holding. "Something new?" He asked, as he began to fold the clothes, meticulously stacking them into tidy piles. </p><p>Bashir shrugged and looked around the room at nothing. "Something old. I just got him back." </p><p>"Him?" <em>Does he have some sort of pet he was keeping at home on earth? It must be something small and quiet, not a Tribble I'd hope...</em></p><p>"Him. I leant him to Leeta back when we had our little fling, but I just haven't had the guts to ask for him back."  </p><p>Garak quirked a brow ridge and set the laundry down, his curiosity undoing him. He circled around the bed until he could just about see- </p><p>"Nog and Jake are quite the determined little entroupeneurs, they wanted a favor done, and I needed someone to recover a dear friend." Clutched in Bashir's hands, there it was. A soft toy, or something that had, at one time began as one. It had matted red and cream fur, one lonesome scratched up eye, and a small red mouth under its worn plastic nose. "Kukkalakka." </p><p>Garak blinked, pulling his eyes away from the mess of jagged uneven stitches that covered it, some having bits off stuffing spilling from them. "I-  beg your pardon?" </p><p>Bashir chuckled, holding the thing up as if he expected Garak would want a closer look. "That's his name, Kukkalakka. I've had him... oh, as long as I can remember, we've been through a lot together." </p><p>Garak looked at it, almost sure Bashir was playing some elaborate joke on him. "What... is it?" </p><p>Bashir laughed again. "<em>He</em> is a bear. A creature from earth about the size of a riding hound, maybe a bit smaller." </p><p>Garak sat down next to him, and the bear was placed in his hands. "And... <em>he</em> is going to be staying with us from now on?" The stitching was uglier when touched then it was by sight, bits of plastic wire and cheap cotton thread criss crossed all over, some of the messy seams having popped long ago, and some so old they'd gone loose. </p><p>Bashir put his arms around Garak and held him, reaching around to place his hand on the bear. "Oh yes, I can't believe I ever let him go in the first place, he's so important to me, I'll never let a thing happen to him again." </p><p>Garak did not understand how an item like this could hold so much apparent value to him, he was confused, but Bashir was a master of putting him at ease. Coiled around him, Bashir pressed his forehead to Garak's. It was a very intimate scene, warm, both emotionally, and physically. He still could not fathom why the thing was so important, but he could tell it was. Bashir's smile and his excitement to share were endearing to say the least. Garak loved to see him smile and feel his contagious excitement. </p><p>They both would have loved to stay in this moment longer, but Bashir's combadge had other ideas. It chirped to life, ordering him to the infirmary. He broke his hug with an exasperated sigh. "Bashir here, I'm on my way." He grumbled as he stood and tidied his uniform, leaning to give Garak a last quick peck on the cheek. "I'll leave you two to get aquatinted." He winked with a smug grin then left jogging for work. </p><p>Garak sat alone with the once-plush creature, he ran his fingers along the 'fur', grimacing at how hard and matted it was in places, noticing other patches were nearly bare, exposing mesh and stuffing. He turned it over in his hands, trying to think of <em>some</em> way he could make it more presentable if it was going to share these quarters with them. </p><p>His thoughts were interrupted by a chime from the civilian terminal they shared (two more secure ones for their respective work were located in a room they'd set aside as an 'office'). It was a dictated message from Bashir, displaying on the little screen as a typed letter. </p><p>
  <em>Sorry Elim, I'll be home late tonight, lots to do. Don't wait for me to have dinner, you might not be eating until the early morning if you do. Cheers- Julian.</em>
</p><p>Garak sighed. He thought he might try to busy himself until it got late, but he'd finished all his orders and was all set for a day of relaxing with his partner. He was unsure what to do until his attention was drawn back to the stuffed bear still in his hands. <em>Perfect.</em></p><p>He bought the toy to his desk, and began his work. Soft toys were not something he had been familiar with in his own childhood, but more then once in his life on the station, he had been asked to repair a child's toy. He had gotten quite good at it.  </p><p>Kukkalakka was dotted in so many patched holes, Garak didn't need to use a seam ripper to get into him. He looked for the weakest of them, and using tweezers, pulled at the knot, allowing him to snip the end and with a quick tug, undo the whole thread. He checked all over, and repeated this with any others that he deemed unstable or unfit. Knowing how sentimental Bashir could be, he did not want to throw anything out. The loosened bits of string, wire, and thread were collected into a little box. What Bashir would want  to do with them, he did not know, but they would be here for him. </p><p>Carefully, he used his hands to pull the dense, wadded up stuffing out, again, placing this in a small box. He felt a bit like he was doing a strange autopsy as he turned the empty fabric shell inside out to examine. The structure was deemed worn, but stable enough, and Garak set upon his next step. </p><p>The lonesome eye and scratched up nose were gently removed and set aside, as were the remains of the small fabric mouth. He set the toy down. A small bucket of water was requested from the replicator, to which he added a couple drops of a mild soap. He submerged the shell in the sudsy water, agitating it for just a few seconds with his hand, before leaving it to soak. </p><p>He placed the bucket out of sight in case Bashir visited their home on a break, and left for his shop. He knew he had items in his inventory that would be very helpful for his little project. A little drawer held a variety of small buttons and plastic toy parts, an order he'd made long ago to complete a repair for a customer. At the time he'd cursed how the supplier would only sell in bulk, but the bits had often come in handy. After a moment of searching he found it- the bulk assortment listed it as a sehlat nose, but it was a near perfect match for the bear's. He slipped it in his pocket, along with two sparkling plastic eyes, before going to examine his stock of fabrics. When he'd made his selection of matches for the shade and texture of the bear, he cut the needed length and carried it home, a spring in his step as he planned his surprise.</p>
<h6></h6><p>It was late (or early, he wasn't sure what to call this time of night) and Garak had just finished the final stitch of his restoration when the door opened. The bear had been scrubbed clean, refilled, and had his body re-covered in new, soft velvet fur. He quickly reached for a ribbon, loosely tying it around the bear's neck in a bow before hiding the toy behind his back and standing rigidly by his desk. </p><p>Bashir entered, tiredly loosening his uniform as he reached for his bedclothes. "You will not believe the night I've- " He paused, noticing Garak's posture and smile. "What are you up to, Elim?" </p><p>Garak rolled his eyes and batted his eyelids. "Hm? Me? I haven't the slightest idea what you might mean Julian." </p><p>He raised a brow, slipping his uniform off, bedclothes on, and tossing the sweat soaked outfit in the hamper. "Come on, out with it." </p><p>Garak grinned, barely able to contain his excitement. "Well, I had a lot of time to myself today, and you've been so <em>busy</em>. Well, I thought it only right I try to... do something nice for you." Garak moved his arms, preparing to reveal his surprise. Bashir smiled, unsure what to expect. </p><p>"Elim, you really don't have to-" He was stopped dead when he saw it. He quickly looked around the room, over to the bed and night stand. Bashir's mind raced. "Wh-" he took a deep breath, clasping his hand over his mouth. "Elim, where's Kukkalaka." </p><p>Garak was confused by his reaction, surely it didn't look so different that it was unrecognizable. "Well, I- I gave it a wash, fixed up some of the seams, I- I even gave it some new stuffing! It was no trouble, I assure you." </p><p>Bashir sat on the bed. "What have you <em>done</em> to him?" Garak frowned. He sat next to Bashir. He passed the refurbished toy to him. Bashir took it in his hands, but claimed it felt strange and unfamiliar. The soft clean fabric offered no comfort to him, and the new eyes only starred, uncaring. The stuffing was full and firm, not the nearly empty flat mass he had grown accustomed to. "I- I don't  know what to say..." </p><p><em>That's not right, he should be overjoyed.</em> "Is everything alright, dear?" </p><p>Bashir sniffled. "Uh. Yes, yeah, everything's fine Elim. Thank you." </p><p><em>That's definitely not right.</em> "Julian-" </p><p>With a heaving sob, Bashir burst into tears. "I'm sorry- I'm-" </p><p>Garak sat there dumbfounded and wrapped his arms around him. "I take it those <em>aren't</em> tears of joy... Is there something I- I got wrong in my repairs?" </p><p> </p><p>Bashir shuddered in his arms, wailing. "No! No, you did a perfect job but- oh, he's gone! This isn't my friend..." </p><p>Garak tried his best to understand. "I'm sorry, I don't-" </p><p>"No, I <em>know</em> you don't, that's the problem! He was my only friend! I was so alone, and scared as a boy, but he was always <em>there</em>, and I learned to care by healing him when he was hurt- and I-" </p><p>Garak felt himself shrink, it was not often Bashir talked about his upbringing, he realized now, he must have done something very wrong. </p><p>"You just saw an ugly old toy and decided he needed fixing, but now he's <em>gone</em>. You did just what my parents did because he wasn't good enough for you and-" Bashir paused, his sobs wracking his body. Garak closed his eyes. "God wait, Elim I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, you're <em>nothing</em> like them, I'm sorry, I'm so-" </p><p>Garak took a deep breath. "Unfortunately my dear, you're right. I thought it was unappealing and I... It seems I just used the idea of a favor to get my way instead of having a ratty old toy in the house." </p><p>Bashir sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "No, I should've said something, it was a nice thought. You had no way of knowing how important he was." </p><p>Garak took the toy in his hands. "<em>Is</em>." </p><p>Bashir shook his head. "No I- I'm sorry, I think I'll just give it to Leeta, he's gone." </p><p><em>'Gone like Jules', I'm sure he wants to say.</em> Garak began to rise from the bed. "I wouldn't say that quite yet if I were you, I think I might be able to bring him back... with your help of course, if I haven't- I mean if you aren't too upset with me." </p><p>Bashir sat on the bed, slowly rocking himself forward and back. "What are you getting at?" </p><p>Garak went to his desk and pulled out the small boxes. "I don't know why, but I thought you might want to keep these. It's the er- the bits of thread, the stuffing and plastic I replaced. I can take the new fur off, I made sure to keep his pattern unaltered... Julian, I am so deeply sorry I caused you any pain." </p><p>Bashir sniffled again. "Your heart was in the right place, Elim." He rose and made his way to the desk, joining his partner, and looked into the small box, hope surging inside him as he caught sight of the warn plastic eye. "...Do you really think you can bring him back?" </p><p>Garak nodded. "I think so. Though, Cardassian memory, as good as it is, will only get me so far in putting all these back in." </p><p>Bashir hugged him. "When can we start?"</p>
<h6></h6><p>The pair sat on the floor in front of the couch, legs curled and tangled under the coffee table as they worked together, the remains of Kukkalakka spread out like a patient in dire need of assistance. Bashir chewed on his fingertips as he watched Garak meticulously remove the stitching that held the plush together. The velvet fell off in perfect pieces, revealing the worn cotton underneath. "He still looks a bit different..." </p><p>Garak flushed. "Well, I did <em>clean</em> him my dear, but I promise this is your 'old chum'." </p><p>Bashir gave him a smile and began sorting out the bits from the box, diving through his memories to remember when and where each stitch was placed. The new nose was popped off, and the the old was put in its place. Garak removed one eye, but before he could take it's match, he was stopped. "Wait- he um... he could use a new eye, my mum threw the one that went with this out when it cracked." He held up the scratchy, faded piece of plastic, and Garak took it, snapping it in its proper place. "I could've fixed it, but she insisted I couldn't, I suppose I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing it just be replaced." </p><p>"Well, she can't see it now. If she ever tries to visit again, we'll hide him." </p><p>Bashir chuckled. "Maybe you can make him a little eyepatch, we could dress him up like The Falcon." They laughed together as Garak ensured the plastic parts were secure. They moved onto the repaired holes that covered him. Instead of undoing Garak's wonderful job of suturing them shut, Bashir suggested taking each bit of thread and line, and using them to reinforce Garak's seams. </p><p>Bashir did these, sewing them with a surgeon's care, and explaining each stitch's meaning to him. The time an attendant at Adigeon had pulled the bear so hard he tore. The time Bashir had the chance to go camping with some schoolmates, and the bear had snagged on a branch. That fateful first rip on the bear's leg. Every little bit had a story, and as Bashir told each one, Garak's understanding grew, he could see how important this toy was to his partner, and a part of him wished he'd had something similar in his own youth. </p><p>As they replaced the patches Garak had removed, Bashir suggested they add some. The velvet Garak had chosen would go back on the bear, but this time, being sewn to the inner layer, reinforcing his fur instead of covering it.  The bear's paws were restuffed firmly, save for one Bashir especially liked to hold, that he filled carefully to match the feeling he'd grown accustomed to. His body was also reinforced with extra stuffing, so he could hold his head high. The head was stuffed just enough to keep its shape, while being able to be smooshed and squeezed and feel like normal. </p><p>Before long, Kukkalakka had returned. He was cleaner, some stitching was neater, and he had a new shiny eye filling the long empty space, with a bright red felt mouth, but he was back. The second Garak finished the final stitch, Bashir snatched him off the table, hugging the bear to his chest and sighing with relief. He leaned against Garak, pressing his face into the plush. His voice rang out, muffled by fabric and stuffing. "He smells different." </p><p>Garak put his arms around Bashir. "I'm sorry Julian, I'm afraid I can't undo that." </p><p>Bashir chuckled. "I didn't say it was bad, just... different. But he still smells like home, that's what's important." </p><p>Garak quirked a brow ridge, settling his head on Bashir's shoulder. "You've lost me, how could he possibly smell like home?" </p><p>Bashir smiled into the bear's fur, nuzzling himself against Garak. "He smells like you now." Bashir turned his head, reaching to give Garak a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you Elim." </p><p>Garak took a slow breath and nuzzled closer. "I take it... you forgive me then?" </p><p>Bashir wiggled in garak's loose grip, smiling as he turned his body to wrap his own arms around his parter. "Of course. " </p><p>Garak looked at the toy in Bashir's grasp. The shiny new eye and dull scratched one of the bear stared back at him. He looked at Bashir's hand, gently resting near his own and gave another content sigh. "It's just about morning dear, are you ready for 'dinner' or shall we skip to breakfast, hm?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A little side story while I try to figure out some writer's block on the current chapter of What Shall We Do! More of that is coming, but for now, have some fluff :'D</p></blockquote></div></div>
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